


Nothing More, Nothing Less

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Bar encounter, Inspired By Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Just two strangers who meet in a hotel bar, and have more than an extraordinary connection.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> one hundred percent i am here to sin and this is my sinnnnnnnnnnning result of a monday free of work.  
> multi chap because the sins must be chopped up. cant have one all telling chapter yo.
> 
> this is a modern AU, no magic, and running with the, 'age difference is like between the actors' so dont get crazy with the flames or whatever.
> 
> inspired by :
> 
>  
> 
> [http://zooey-g.tumblr.com/post/153481526719/ ]

The setting sun was streaming through the windows into the atrium of the hotel, and the concierge was telling Tina the hours of the bar and restaurant just down the hall, past the bank of elevators that led to the rooms, and she smiled, pretending to listen, but really just wondering when she could get the key and retreat to her room.

She wasn’t there to drink, and she wasn’t there to socialize.

She was in New York City on business, and the hotel she’d let her sister book for her was the closest to cheap that could be found in the inner city.

Visions of long island iced teas swam in her eyes as she stared out the window, her folder of proposals heavy in hand, and her sweater began to feel itchy and heavy rather than comfy.

“Goddamnit.”

She muttered to herself, turning from the window, the view of the blood red and purple sunset burning into her irises.

She couldn’t stay up there and re-read another paragraph or she’d lose her mind. It was hot and stuffy in the hallways of the hotel, due to cheap heating or cooling more than likely, so she shucked the sweater and pulled out the black tee shirt dress she’d packed, at Queenie’s insistence, and threw on a silver choker, and swiped a single layer of maroon lipstick on, declaring herself presentable.

The hotel bar would have to do after all…

*

It wasn’t the kind of place he was used to staying in, Percival thought himself more of a connoisseur than a snob, and the Creaky Roof was not quite as bad as its name implied, but only just.

The bar served a decent array of liquors and the food was a hipsters’ dream, but still, entertainment fell short, and overall, he couldn’t keep himself away mostly because his in room TV was broken, and the WIFI was strongest the closer to the lobby one was.

He leaned back in his chair, scrolled through his newsfeed and tried not to roll his eyes. Another old college friend engaged, posting ridiculously sappy photos, clearly posed, and with a dozen comments of well wishes that only half of them meant.

It was all just warmed over bullshit and he was so sick of it. The chatter from the other patrons was just the south side of soothing, and he rolled his head back, feeling his neck muscles relax and joints pop, and he let out a groan, wishing he’d sprung for the hotel that included a spa.

The familiar click clack of heels distracted him from another lazy perusal of his social media account, and he turned to see the source, gazing over to find a petite brunette with a pixie cut, and a rather sad pair of dark eyes.

By her body language she was incredibly uncomfortable, and the way she tried to avoid eye contact with anyone but the bartender told him she was there alone.

Well maybe the stay wasn’t completely useless after all.

He glanced to his glass, whiskey and coke, with a dash of lemon juice for interesting flavor, and he downed the rest, before heading to the bar, taking her right side, and asking for another.

She didn’t turn her head to him, but he could tell she was eyeing him up in her peripheral vision, as her shoulders tensed and she let out a sigh.

*

Oh he was attractive all right. Looked like two different kinds of trouble mixed with a little danger. Queenie would have called him a cad, a rake, someone out of the 1950’s, James Bond on vacation. Basically exactly Tina’s type.

“Another Jack and Coke. No lemon this time.”

His voice held an irish lilt to it, and though he didn’t look like a tourist, he also wasn’t a businessman. Those sorts wouldn’t allow themselves to be caught dead inside a bar in less than a suit. He wore a light blue button up, and dark wash jeans. His shoes weren’t remarkable or polished. He might have looked relaxed, if he wasn’t hunched over his glowing smartphone, leaning on the bar, trying to seem nonchalant.

“White wine for me please.”

She saw him from the corner of her eye, drinking her in like she was some kind of tequila shot, and the side of his mouth might have been twitching towards a smirk, but she wasn’t buying it.

“Hey stranger, what brings you to this fine city?”

She spoke first, surprising herself, and him clearly, there was no one else she could have been addressing in such a casual manner, yet with a flirty sort of edge. As if she had meant to say ‘hey handsome’ but changed the word at the last second. Maybe she had.

Hitting on strangers in some dingy bar on a business trip was absolutely the _last_ thing Tina should have been doing, she knew it, but she didn’t care also.

It felt good, as if she was stretching muscles she didn’t remember she had. It had been two years since Newt, and if she thought she’d stepped outside her comfort zone for him, what sort of madness was she embarking upon now?

The man, who couldn’t be much more than thirty-five, and if the lack of a ring was anything to go by, she was doing better than she’d been last week, trying to flirt for ten whole minutes with a man before spotting the silver gleam on his left hand. She’d never felt so foolish.

“Work over pleasure I’m afraid. How about you?”

The bartender brought over his drink, and immediately began pouring hers from the house white wine bottle, and she found herself tongue tied, unsure how to proceed. The conversations never went that way, being turned back upon her so quickly. Men usually babbled on about themselves, bored her to tears, before thinking of asking her a thing.

*

Percival wasn’t quite sure what to make of the woman, she was no wilting flower, no shrinking violet, she breathed challenge and she stared daggers without intending to, or maybe she did. But her words sounded foreign as his accent, sliding off her tongue out of those dark red lips, as if she was testing new material.

“Work, yes. Business trips always drive me to drink, ya know?”

Percival raised his glass to her, and cocked a brow, asking before he took a sip,

“Sounds like you’re in the wrong business then?”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

She plucked up her glass from the bar and stepped back, putting a good couple feet of distance between them, before gazing around the room, looking a bit unsure.

It was easy, the next step.

“Care to join me? Unless you’re waiting for co-workers of course…”

He took a couple steps towards his table, where his bag still sat plopped in the second chair, indicating the table was taken.

He glanced back at her, and caught the tail end of her downing half her wine, before she nodded,

“Thanks I’d love it.”

Sitting across from her, he could more easily look at her without coming across as too much of a creep, or whatever they were called those days.

She had delicate cheekbones, a graceful neck, and the way she carried herself, even sitting spoke of elegance from a bye-gone era.

It made him want to ask a far too personal question.

It was his turn to speak after all.

He set his glass down, never having meant to take another sip, it was just something to distract himself with, to prolong the silence.

She was nearly out of wine.

“What’s your line of work?”

Came out of his mouth instead of what he wanted to know.

She shrugged, and then took the last sip of her wine,

“Mostly journalism. But occasionally investigative reporting. I’m here for the big story of the upcoming mayoral election of course. Shaw is a favorite to win, but I suspect it’s not quite in the bag as he hopes.”

His eyebrows rose at that statement, and he took a slow drink, before setting his glass back down and waving to the bartender.

He had seen she was on the edge of her seat, prepared to leave to go get a refill, but it was unnecessary. He’d already spent four nights in the hotel, they practically knew his credit card number by heart.

“That’s very shrewd of you. Bringing up politics so soon on this, our first meeting.”

She blinked over at him, not even seeming to see the waiter bringing over a fresh glass for her, and she looked almost annoyed,

“What are you suggesting? People can’t talk politics without resorting to fighting or name calling?”

He grinned, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from coming off too smug,

“Of course not. Generally though, it is a safe assumption. You don’t even know what I do. Maybe I work for Shaw’s campaign.”

Maybe it was the wine, or something else, but she didn’t even look taken aback, or she wasn’t easily swayed.

Another long sip of wine, and the silence stretched, so he took a drag of his own drink.

“Well then, do you?”

She finally asked.

He smirked.

*

Tina was ablaze, nerves singed off from the wine, and her only brace on her tongue being the fact she didn’t even know the man’s name, but he was managing to both infuriate and arouse her by merely playing coy.

Or perhaps it was just the length of the dry spell she was enduring.

“I do not. Unfortunately. Life isn’t quite that cruel, or ironic. I’m just another computer engineer, out here to help fix some idiots machine, because apparently common sense isn’t that common anymore.”

She inhaled sharply as if more oxygen would help stop the heat flooding her veins, and undo the wine she’d drank too fast on an empty stomach. Well, breakfast had been before the flight, and it had been decent, but that was hours ago.

“Really. You say it like your job is just as regular as a plumber or electrician or nurse, but not everyone can be a tech wizard.”

A smile curved over his lips at that,

“Maybe so. So tell me, how is it you’re still sitting here when I’ve been so rude? I’m Percival Graves, and what might be your name, besides Saint?”

Tina wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, or actually blushing. It wasn’t something she’d done since high school.

So long ago. Almost a faded memory.

Back to the present, the handsome man with his hand outstretched, and a wry smile on his face.

“Tina Goldstein. Delighted to make your acquaintance.”

She took his hand, and knew five seconds later it had been a mistake. His grip was firm, not painful, but his skin was rough, and warm even against her clammy heated skin.

He held onto her hand five more seconds, and it wasn’t until she ripped her gaze away from his to look at their entwined hands that he let go, and took up his glass again, taking a long sip, and she remembered she had a new glass of wine to nurse.

Excellent.

Get drunker.

More drunk.

Whatever.

“How old fashioned of you. Usually most people would say ‘good to meetcha.’”

He threw her a wink, at least she thought it was a wink, she couldn’t be sure, as she was hiding behind her wine glass, and trying not to drown.

“I guess I’m not most people.”

She tried to not grimace at that, but it was almost unconscious.

He actually looked amused,

“I walked right into that one didn’t I? So Tina, is that short for anything? I mean, I’ve heard it all about my name, so there’s no new ground to be broken.”

Tina took that as a challenge, and considering the way her hands were no longer shaking and she felt more like she was floating, she was ready to take it.

“Oh really? Call me Bettina and I’ll call you Percy.”

He blinked, and then finished off the rest of his drink in a gulp, before wincing, and nodding.

“All right you skipped over the easy ‘evil’ jokes and got down and dirty, I’ll take it. But Tina is lovely enough on its own, no need to be ridiculous.”

Her hand tightened on her glass, but he was just complimenting her name, not her. Not really.

“I don’t know you well enough, I couldn’t insult you so quickly.”

She was teasing, and it wasn’t like her, but he took it, and he grinned easily.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Has anyone ever told you how much you look like Wynonna Ryder? I’m sorry, it’s just been itching the back of my mind. I had to ask.”

She actually brought up her hand from the armrest and clapped it on her chest, ‘I do declare’ style, and almost choked on her words,

“What, really?”

Percival, not Percy, that was far too school-childish, she refused to use it, then nodded,

“Oh yeah. Just like her. Big dark eyes and pale skin. Like some kind of woodland fairy.”

That was definitely a compliment right? No way around it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heueheuheueheueheue  
> guess what time it is?  
> smut time. hells ya

Percival didn’t really know what he was doing, but seeing her light up like that, just from the most offhand compliment, downplayed even, so he didn’t sound like he’d been staring just for her looks, and it was like she glowed from within.

Forget sad eyes, she sparkled.

She smiled, and leaned forward, and asked him what sort of music he liked to listen to, when not dealing with incompetent fools at his work.

He’d finished his drink, and didn’t even think to order another, but the waiter brought one over just the same, whisking away the empty glasses, and putting it all on his room tab most likely.

She was with him after all.

Kind of.

Definitely.

Three hours passed in a blink of an eye, and it wasn’t until his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text that he begged forgiveness, and checked it.

Midnight.

He’d been in that bar nearly five hours, and talking to her for more than half that.

How often did that happen?

Never.

If he was honest.

It was all just for business, or he’d never have set a foot in the garish hotel.

Though it did have its charm, most of it was sitting across from him, dressed in black, and pretty as a picture.

“Would you like to take a walk? Get some air?”

Outside of the bar, there was nothing else special in the hotel. No gift shop, no park, just the cramped parking lot squished next door.

“Sure. Do you have a balcony?”

Percival sat up straight, and looked right at her, instinctively licking his lips,

“Yeah I do. Smokers habit. I’m sure you guessed.”

She blinked, and then shook her head.

She didn’t seem to realize what she’d just asked by omission.

“The voice? Everyone says it’s a giveaway.”

“I think it adds intrigue.”

She spoke like she was a writer. No wonder her tone and word choices were so unique. It was what she _did_.

“Would you care to join me?”

The second time he’d asked that, and she nodded, standing at the same time as he did, and her heels click clacked as she followed him out of the bar, and to the bank of elevators, the most high tech bit of the whole hotel.

Silence took over as soon as they stepped inside the car, and he punched his floor number.

They hadn’t quite closed the bar down, but almost.

He chanced a look over at her and caught her staring at him. She looked down at the floor and appeared to be biting her bottom lip, maybe to keep from speaking?

“Do you smoke?”

He didn’t know what else to say, what else he would be able to ask without being overly presumptuous, though it had been her question, her nudge.

She half shrugged,

“Only sometimes. It doesn’t do much for me. Just a habit. When I have writers block, sometimes it helps…”

She trailed off, and he watched the curve of her throat as she swallowed, nerves probably, but before he could say or do anything, the elevator dinged, and the car stopped, less of a lurch than a jerk.

“Ah, here we are.”

He could have bit his tongue. He didn’t know why he’d said that, or said anything like it.

His arm still reached out to guide her out of the car, somewhat instinctively.

He swore she leaned into it, but the second they were in the hallway, he dropped his hand, mostly out of fear.

Pathetic really.

He hid the move by rummaging in his pockets for his key, and then counting the numbers until they were standing right in front of his room.

He glanced back at her, but she was admiring the ceiling, so he couldn’t gauge her reaction.

Throwing open the door, he stepped inside and gave a grand gesture,

“Please, come in.”

She sort of ducked her chin and smiled,

“Thank you.”

She walked around as if the floor was covered in broken glass, cautious, but never stopping in one place too long.

Making a beeline for the balcony, he found his pack of cigarettes and the lighter tucked inside, and swapped it for his phone in his pocket.

“Coming?”

He tilted his head towards the now open sliding door, and she started, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong, just observing the darkened kitchenette included in his room.

“Oh, yes.”

He moved aside so she could join him on the balcony, which was more of a storage shelf for a chair than for people to stand and socialize on, and lit up two cigarettes before passing her one.

“Thank you.”

She spoke so quiet, her voice so small, as if they were in church or something, trying not to be overheard.

Sure the hour was late, but they were in New York! The city never slept, if it could help it.

“So, how long are you in town for?”

How he hadn’t thought to ask before was mind boggling, but they’d changed and danced and juggled so many other topics, it hadn’t seemed polite to return to work in the midst of all that fun.

Tina took a long drag of the cigarette, before exhaling slowly, a thin stream of smoke from between still crimson lips,

“Just the weekend. It’s not like they could afford to keep me in town for more than that. How about you?”

Something in his gut clenched. They had the same amount of days left, so why did he wish he could have met her sooner, impossible as that was?

“Two more days. I’ve been here almost a week. I could get used to it. I hated this place at first, but now, it’s kind of grown on me. The company doesn’t hurt.”

 He didn’t mean for the line to come off so cheesy, but it was. Staring over at her, seeing the city lights glitter in her eyes, it was like he couldn’t look away. Not that he wanted to.

He flicked away the cigarette, only half smoked, and reached out with his other hand, carefully, slow, to brush back her bangs from where they’d escaped being tucked behind her ear.

His palm cupped her cheek, and he saw her bottom lip quaver.

What was he waiting for?

Her eyes were darting from his own to his mouth, and he didn’t even know what to say, so he didn’t say anything, he just moved.

Five inches. That was the entire distance between them, gone in a heartbeat, as Percival pulled her forward, and pressed his mouth on hers.

She tasted like smokey sweetness, and he could feel her heartbeat thundering beneath his finger on her jawline.

He dared to press his tongue along the seam of her lips and then pulled back, suddenly gasping for breath. He’d stopped breathing to kiss her.

“Is this…okay?”

She didn’t speak, she just nodded, and sort of hummed low in her throat.

It was sexy as hell.

*

The second Percival had touched her, her mind had jumped into overdrive. She saw him trying to kiss her, hold her, grope her, and she felt herself getting bored, in the future moment. But that couldn’t be, there felt like literal sparks were crackling between them, and it wasn’t from the fact he’d already kissed her, giving her a cigarette he’d held between his pink and chapped lips.

Well, an indirect kiss.

She just wanted more.

When his hand held her face, she fought every single instinct to nuzzle against his palm, and resisted. Then he kissed her, and it was like nothing she’d ever known.

Boredom was the furthest thing from her mind at that intimate contact. Suddenly just a kiss wasn’t enough. Her hands twitched to grasp at his shirt collar, her thighs ached to wrap around his waist, and her lungs burned from lack of air for kissing him was far more enticing than needing to breathe.

Smoking had been a great excuse to get him to take her to his apartment, but it was also a test. She wanted to see how far he was willing to go, and it seemed to be about the same page as her.

His voice wasn’t a giveaway that he smoked, it was just a sultry irish rasp, maybe it was more common than he thought. Or maybe it wasn’t.

Either way, she liked it.

He broke the kiss to ask permission to do more. Well that’s how she took it.

It was sweet.

Her skin was itching and her nerves alit, all because he’d barely just teased her with that kiss, and she _needed_ more, now.

She didn’t remember she had a cigarette until she felt him pluck it out of her hand and toss it over the balcony.

“Don’t want to get burned.”

He murmured, low, and almost at a growl, and she felt a shiver crawl down her spine. Oh no, she didn’t want that, but perhaps, she wondered, if he did the lighting, she’d brave the flames.

“Right.”

She backed up into the room from the balcony, and he carefully slid the door shut, blocking out the cold wind that had begun to bite into her skin, chasing away the rampant heat he’d stoked within her, but the second his eyes locked onto hers, it was back in full force.

Words failed her, and the mere point of asking where his room was, fell flat the second he leaned in, loomed almost, pressing both hands to her cheeks, and kissed her senseless.

She parted her lips almost instantly for him, to invade her mouth with his tongue, and he tasted like whiskey, a tinge of sweet from the soda, and she just wanted to drown in him, in the moment.

His hands left her face, and slid down her sides, grazed her ribs, and landed on her hips, as if bracing himself there, he squeezed, just shy of too hard.

“C’mon.”

He broke the kiss to move down and nip at her neck, and she nearly fainted. Her knees certainly gave out, but it was perfectly okay, because he pulled her off her feet, into his arms, carrying her to his room.

She curled against his chest, and could feel his own heartbeat thudding against her ear, and it only made hers race faster.

He wanted her.

He was nervous too.

She’d never felt more alive in her life.

He set her down on his bed, gently, so gently, and moved back to untuck his shirt and toss it aside, and also kicked off his shoes, before returning to her, and as she began to sit up on the bed, gravitating towards him, he wrapped a hand around one of her ankles, and dragged his hand down, pulling off her heels, one by one.

Tina gulped as the second one plopped onto the floor, and she realized he was there, shirtless, awaiting her wishes.

She sat up further, crawling over to him, bare legs rubbing against the cotton of his sheets, he’d folded back the comforter and blankets, and it granted her a couple inches on her knees, putting him only a head taller, she imagined it would be more if they were both barefoot and side by side.

“Do you –?”

He paused, as if unsure of what he was trying to ask, but she just nodded.

She felt it, the second he touched her again, softly, his fingers caressing the underside of her arm, linking their hands and fingers together, while his other hand reached up to push her wild bangs out of her eyes. Not that any hair could really block the view in front of her.

Wordlessly, she crept closer, closing the distance, and pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth. It quickly devolved into a more heated and open mouthed one within seconds.

As if he was her first meal in ages, a rare drink in the desert, she could not be sure it would ever be enough.

His hands roamed over her back, down the curve of her spine and the swell of her ass, and she knew he’d felt where the zipper was, but he wasn’t about to presume.

So she decided to answer the question for him.

Her hands flattened on his bare chest, and she felt him shiver, and his teeth nipped over her bottom lip, and the moan that escaped her was almost inhuman.

Her hands dipped lower, beyond his ribs, to the trail of dark hair that led to his jeans, and she let one creep further, brushing over the front of his zipper, and the hard bulge she felt nearly made her stop breathing all over again.

He was just as into the kissing, the half naked groping, whatever it was, that she was. The ache between her legs was verging on painful, and she wasn’t sure how wanton she wanted to be, guide his hand there, or demand that he fuck her?

Either way it sounded far too harsh to her mind’s ear, so instead, she just concentrated on him, kept rubbing her hand over his jeans covered cock, and shivered deliciously when he broke the kiss to groan against her neck.

“If you’re gonna tease me like this, can I touch you too?”

His voice wasn’t a whisper, it was a sigh, and she found herself nodding before she’d even really thought it through.

She may have been wearing a black dress, but she wasn’t exactly wearing the type of underwear Queenie would dub ‘sexy’ much less ‘appealing to any man’s eyes’ but when his hand slid up her thigh and under the skirt of her dress, she decided she didn’t much care.

“Your skin is so soft.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, and her knees nearly gave out again, then again, she’d also been kneeling, albeit on a comfortable surface, for…how long? She wasn’t sure. Time seemed to warp when she was with him, whether talking or…whatever what was happening was.

“Thank you.”

The words slipped out, and his hand paused, thumb just slipping into the band of her underwear, and he chuckled against her skin, lips pressing wetly along her collarbone,

“So polite, even still. Tina, you amaze me.”

She brought her other hand from his chest to graze over his bare arm, the one currently feeling beneath her skirt, and she felt how tense his muscles were, veins like cords standing out over his skin. He pulled back from her shoulder, and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

She found herself asking, and as she looked at him, really looked, beyond the wine haze, she found a smoldering sort of gaze staring back at her.

“I’m trying to resist the urge to tear off these panties of yours. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to wait. I swear I can smell you.”

She gulped at that, not at all what she’d been expecting him to say.

She thought maybe he had noticed how she hadn’t shaved her legs, above her knees, in several days, due to travel, or maybe that her legs were shaking from holding herself up so long in an awkward position.

Not that.

“Oh.”

She sort of breathed, not sure how to reply.

It wasn’t like they were a special pair, she couldn’t even remember what color they were.

“May I?”

He was inches away, preparing to kiss her, maybe just until she said yes, so instead, she shrugged, and then leaned back in, kissing him soundly.

He was a lot stronger than he looked, for it took him about three seconds to reach down and rip them off of her, before tossing them aside.

Her eyes darted to the corner they’d landed in, and she made a mental note. Ivory.

“Now…”

He rasped into the kiss, breaking apart from her once more, only to put one hand on her shoulder, and gently nudge her backwards, while the other remained beneath the skirt of her dress, fingers just shy of teasing her embarrassingly wet core.

“Oh god.”

She finally collapsed into the cushion of several pillows, knees screaming in relief at being relaxed, and with him between her legs now, pushing up the bottom of her skirt so he could more easily reach her.

Fidgeting with her hands, she finally linked them together and pressed them onto her chest, looking down at him with only mild nervousness.

“God is right. You taste like heaven.”

“Um, what?”

Tina wasn’t exactly speechless, she’d heard worse things, usually directed as insults and not meant to be endearing, but she focused on Percival bringing one hand to his mouth, while the other was most certainly pressing one, then two fingers inside of her, not a difficult feat, and he looked almost sheepishly over at her.

“Tell me someone’s done this to you before.”

Tina looked at the ceiling, away from his prying gaze, and gasped aloud when his two fingers brushed up against that nearly forgotten spot inside her, while she felt his thumb rubbing slowly over her clit.

“Tell me.”

His voice dropped to a growl again, and she thought she couldn’t get wetter until that instant.

“No. Not well at least.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth,

“That’s a goddamn crime. I apologize on behalf of my gender.”

Tina smiled and almost laughed,

“No need for that now. You’re here, making up for it.”

He didn’t reply, at least, not with words. He’d pressed his mouth to her, and the second his tongue made contact with her flesh, she nearly arched her back.

Luckily, or unluckily, his other arm was braced over her hips, as if expecting just that sort of thing to occur. Well wasn’t he a presumptive sort?

Apparently really good at that wicked task too.

It didn’t hurt that she was almost desperate to see him just as bared before her now, and her skin was still afire, and she almost wanted to stop him just to be able to kiss him again.

But he was insistent, and he didn’t do anything by halves it seemed, so as she tried to distract herself with thoughts of elsewhere, his fingers and mouth gradually drew her back, stole her attention and breath, and she was gone before she knew what had happened.

“Ho-o-o-ly shit…”

She sighed, chest heaving, hands having moved to fist in the sheets at her sides, while Percival slowly let up and her aftershocks took over.

He kissed up her hips and tugged her dress higher, until his clever fingers had found the zipper, and he was looming over her, with a rather smug expression on his face, while somewhat apologetic.

“Shift.”

He murmured, and she did, just enough, so he could undo it the rest of the way, and then completely remove her dress.

“I, uh, wow.”

“Loss of perfect coherent writerly vocabulary, that’s a win for me then.”

Tina wanted to be annoyed but she just giggled.

“Okay, yes.”

At some point, he must have cleaned his hands, whether by abusing the hotel sheets or his jeans, for when he reached up to push back the sweat dampened hair from her forehead, his hands were just rough and warm, there was no sickeningly sweet smell of her arousal, and just that kindling of a spark, needing to be quenched, or stoked, by a kiss anew.

“Excellent.”


	3. Chapter 3

Percival wasn’t sure there were many things in the world quite as beautiful as watching a beautiful woman on the crest of oblivion, and in that moment, he decided, even if she was to treat him, it wouldn’t compare.

Not that it would be a bad thing at all, in fact, watching her had just about made him prepared to rub one out the second she’d left, if she did decide to play the Cinderella card, and vanish within the next ten minutes.

He hoped it wouldn’t happen, but one never knew.

“Mhm, now you need to take these, off, and give me a look.”

Her hands were fumbling over the zipper and snap of his jeans, and he thought his libido might have leapt into overdrive.

“Is that right?”

She hummed again, low in her throat, and the noise shot straight to his groin,

“Well I won’t argue if you’re looking for a wander.”

That she was, or at least, her questing fingers were. He helped undo the button, which was rather tight, considering the jeans were new, and undid the zipper just enough, to let her take over.

It was very amusing watching her struggle, somewhat, with shucking off his jeans and boxers, and he bit his tongue and inside his cheek to keep from laughing.

She was very cute and alluring, naked but for her necklace, perched over him like some kind of naughty nymph.

“Okay, tell me if it’s good. If it’s okay.”

He wasn’t sure there were many things she could do that wouldn’t be arousing, but when she finally put her bare hand to his cock, it was nothing short of spectacular.

It might have been the whiskey, or just her.

She gave him one good stroke, up the whole length and back again, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he could die happy without even begging her to use her mouth.

“Okay?”

He nodded,

“Oh yes. You’re doing great.”

She almost wore a bit of a pout,

“You’re not being very specific.”

He cocked a brow at her, and shifted his hips, mimicking a thrust, which took her by surprise, and she nearly let go of him. Instead, she brought her other hand to him, and started working him with both, a certain improvement.

“You didn’t say a word, but I figured you out pretty quick…Tina.”

Dropping her name in there felt like the most natural thing in the world, and he saw a blush color her cheeks. It had to be natural, she wasn’t wearing any foundation, unless it was the most kiss-proof shit in the world.

“Okay, yeah.”

“Trust me, you’re doing fine.”

He could probably just look at her and get off just as easily, but he rather liked the idea of her being able to see him fall over that edge.

“Do you want to try something else?”

She tilted her head, sending her bangs sliding across her forehead,

“Like, technique?”

Percival chuckled,

“Not quite. Method. I have condoms, if you’d like to use them.”

She licked her lips, and his cock just twitched from the sight of that, clearly surprising her again, and she ducked her head, and seemed to be staring at it instead meeting his eyes.

“I mean, we can. If you want.”

Without kissing, it was like she was reverting to the shy wallflower he’d first thought her not to be. It was remarkable. She wasn’t a virgin, he suspected as much, but how long had it _been?_

“C’mere.”

 She slowly let go of him, and did as she was asked, crawling up the bed to gently lay half on him and half against the pillows, and he did what seemed to always work best, grazed her cheek with his hand, and brought her down for a kiss.

Only a few moments passed and he could feel her relax even as she started to writhe against him.

“Mmmhm okay. Did you have another question?”

She pulled back, a cute frown pinching her brows together.

“Not exactly. But how do you feel about it, now? You can be on top, or I can. It’s whatever you want.”

Tina seemed to consider it for a moment, before nodding,

“You can be on top. It’s more fun that way.”

Agree to disagree, Percival countered in his head, but she was the one running the show, whether she knew it or not.

He gently shifted her over, til she was on her back, and he moved to retrieve the wrapper from the bedside table.

Always prepared, like the Boy Scout he never got to be.

“Do you think I’m still…good enough?”

He smirked down at her, putting the condom in place,

“I think you’re more than good.”

She rolled her eyes, and then matched his expression with a twist of her lips,

“Not that, not skills. I mean lubrication. It’s important.”

He reached down between her legs, making her jump with the quick probing of one finger, and he shrugged,

“I think you’re good, but you tell me if I need to slow down or stop, okay?”

She just nodded, and he shifted down closer to her, caressing her thigh before hitching her leg up against his side,

“Okay?”

She nodded again, and seemed to be focusing on breathing.

He could understand, but she had nothing to be nervous about.

“Here.”

He closed the distance between them, and kissed her so fiercely he thought he tasted a moan, and pressed inside her, slow and steady, gauging her reactions.

It therefore took him by surprise when she brought her other leg up, and linked her ankles behind his back, pulling him the rest of the way inside of her.

All at once, he was overwhelmed with sensation, the hot, wet, and tightness of her inner walls clenching around his cock, and the way she kissed him like she was trying to quench an unknowable thirst.

He loved it.

*

So it had been a while yes, but for some reason, whatever it was, she didn’t mind it, in fact, she didn’t want to stop, she was just delirious with a strange kind of pleasure that crawled up her spine, and seemed to whisper, ‘perfect.’

Dangerous as that was, considering she didn’t know much of anything about her handsome stranger who thought himself ordinary, but then again, she lived for danger.

He finished a couple moments later, something Queenie would have called a bad sign, but Tina just thought was flattering as hell, and then was asking if she wanted to stay, or needed to be up early.

Uh, hell no it was Saturday in the morning. She had a lunch meeting, and then work.

“I can stay, if you want.”

He’d collapsed beside her, and was still trying to regulate his breathing it seemed. Her skin was tingling, as if she’d been touched with a live wire, and maybe it was because she didn’t want to _stop_ touching him.

Even then, her hand was drawing mindless shapes on his bare chest, and her lips were aching to kiss him again.

That sort of addiction couldn’t bode well for her, for him, for either of them.

“I’d like it. I don’t sleep well with anyone beside me, usually. But I think with you, I’ll have pleasant dreams.”

What a line.

Why did he bother?

She was already naked in his bed, post coitus.

“Sounds good.”

Tina rolled over, until she was lying on her stomach, eyeing him as he got up, retrieving bits of clothing and somewhat folding them neatly onto the nearby desk chair, and then returning to the bed with his phone in hand, checking on something, before he put it aside, and was beside her.

His hand moved over her back so gently, it was almost a ghost of a touch.

“What are you doing?”

She found herself asking, suddenly more tired than she thought she was. The wine and the sex had hit her hard.

“Memorizing you. So I can be sure I see you in my dreams.”

She vaguely remembered him placing a kiss, chastely on her forehead, before sleep swallowed her whole.

*

**END?**

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also this mashup of closer is quite basically the soundtrack  
> https://www.youtube.com/shared?ci=79IXNrC-SQ8 
> 
> Ethereal and dreamy shit


End file.
